Tag: poetry books
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Dreaming through my window
Draw me a picture, I say and yellow streams through the window blinds It paints a golden canvas on my wall with the tail end of your shadow swaying gently in the dipping sun. The picture softens and sharpens as if, I sit in the center of an Eye as it blinks bleary-eyed, dreaming through…
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If words could set you free
These black lines on white are not bars, if you look long enough, they are doorways set ajar into Space
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Warm lies.
The world blurs into shimmering blobs of light, they bubble around me, and one by one they go— pop pop— bursting into the cold, dark night the warmth recedes My toes and fingers are cold I am cold so cold
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The Verse of Being.
There were four children who wove the wicker of fire that colors every blade of grass, every eye that is. One covered the sky, in her disappearance she sparked secrets that swirled in her silent cauldron And the other, took the form of sea foam, she came and went playfully sprinkling precious salt, sea shells…
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Forgotten remembrance
I feel you wave in the shadows of dancing leaves, in the shiver of wild sugarcane, in the quiet scuffle under the bushes and the ripple of a still pond I see your white tail slip out the corner of my eye as if shy but always there, asking, Do you remember me? I open my palm…
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Autumn rain
The autumn rain falls sleepy on crinkled orange, strewn along the path, winding with no certain destination into the far horizon of the setting sun where fire meets fire and the world burns its wildest before the waning sun ushers cold slumber and all is covered in white sound
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The word human
I, what is– ‘I’? I call myself the word ‘human’ But, what is human? Not the word but the thing itself? Am I the thing itself? Or that which says this is ‘I’? But, what says ‘I’? What is I? What is I? I, I, I, caw-caw, a crow crows.
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Between man and woman
Give she the mantle of the heart before she can wonder Give she all the fire and rain before she can build her ship Give she the bare skin and blood of birth before she can uncover her jewel Give he the weighty hammer and the anvil before his feet can take flight Give he the…
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I woke up a honeybee today
I woke up a honeybee today zipped and dunked into sweet lips, a kiss of gold dustings on my skin. I went about my nature with not a question in mind but swirling in movement and sensations, Softness Sweetness Scents and Oh! the buzz and buzz of my countryfolk
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wear it tight
Your body uncurls, stretches deliciously and spills on the sheets, pink tongue slips out and in. I wonder what it’s like, I wonder the purity in you to be soft in the presence of a being so capable of harm My skin longs for the same but, I wear it tight.
MindWraith 